


More Than One Club

by foulrescent



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hunk is NOT STRAIGHT, Lance breaks workplace etiquette, M/M, Misunderstandings, Office, Sexuality, dirty talk as in Keith becomes a teacher, hunk is so nervous n cute to go on a date with A MALE he's so cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8049412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foulrescent/pseuds/foulrescent
Summary: It takes Pidge's reassurance, sex tips from Keith and miscommunication for Hunk to come out.





	More Than One Club

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: there's a you're/your that's spelt wrong that i lost before i could fix and cannot find it again.
> 
> Also: this is all nonsense

“I’ve got a date at 6,” Hunk vaguely says.

Pidge looks up from her screen with a blank look on her face. She’s _busy_ and a little bit grumpy. Someone broke through the firewall that she set up for Voltron, and she did have a sneaking suspicion that it was Hunk – if anyone can beat her, it’s Hunk – but then he entered her office with a cute chubby face that reminded her that his innocent soul couldn’t have broke the firewall just to watch _Black haired white guy gets banged by a Latino_ and _cute black haired gay twink_ at work.

“Ooookay. Have fun,” she pops out and continues to type again, not even looking at the keyboard but trained on the lines of code. She doesn’t hear footsteps descend or the door close. She looks above the frame of her glasses, perplexed at the unusual quiet from Hunk. “Need help sneaking by Coran on your way out? You know who’s good at that? Allura. Go bother her.”

Hunk still doesn’t say anything, or go. Pidge scrunches her nose. “Do you want Nosey Lance Questions? Okay then. Who’s the date with?”

Hunk visibly gulps, breathes in a gush of air. His hair’s nicely combed over, she notices. He’s also wearing his nice tanned slacks and a baby yellow shirt that’s faint enough to display the dark outlines of the tattoos on his arms.

Just as Pidge is about to reassure Hunk’s noticeable nerves, Hunk blurts out, “It’s with a guy.”

She hides her surprise, schooling her expression to her usual subtlety. “That’s great.”

“A _guy_ , Pidge,” Hunk quietly hisses, “How am I supposed to tell Lance?”

“Like you’ve just told me,” Pidge says confusedly, frowning and pushing up her glasses.

“I can’t just do that. Lance will.” Hunk huffs, unsure of how to say it.

Pidge doesn’t understand. “What? He won’t do anything but buy you lube. You do know that Lance is—“

“Exactly,” Hunk moans, stretching his cheeks downwards with his hands, “LANCE is the bi one.”

Something unsettles in Pidge’s stomach. She turns fully away from her screen, not wanting distractions. “Is that how you see us? Lance and yourself? Lance is just the bi one. Keith’s the gay. I’m demi. Shiro is… I don’t fucking know. Pan, maybe. Allura’s a lesbian goddess and you, Hunk, you were straight and now you’re bi, but noooo, we can’t have another bi in Voltron.”

Hunk finally drops into one of the unattractive guest chairs (courtesy of Coran) opposite the desk. “Pidge,” he says seriously, “I love you, but please don’t take my words out of context just to start ranting. You’re cranky as shit because of Lance watching porn on our servers and I’m a nervous wreck. Look at me. Look at the huge sweat marks I’ve gotten.”

“Don’t lift up your arms. And I’m sorry. Why don’t you want to tell Lance you’re going on a date with… a guy?”

Hunk unhelpfully shrugs. He exhales loudly. “When he told me he was bi he _didn’t really exactly_ tell me he was bi. It was like this: _oh, yeah, I sucked Keith’s dick. Twice! Yay!_ And then he made out with Keith against the fridge every morning and I couldn’t get my OJ. I didn’t make a big deal out of it and I don’t want him to make _this_ a big deal. He’s gonna make it a big deal, but I want him to be the bisexual poster boy with his gorgeous little body eyeing soft curves and Keith 24/7. I don’t want to steal his thunder. But then he’s going to be upset that I never told him I thought Shiro’s ass was cute when he asked me that one time. I just said, _don’t be disgusting, bro_. I don’t want to betray him.”

“Lance would love to be you right now. Oh, the attention.” Pidge snorts, only paying attention to the important parts. She’d save the fact that Hunk thinks Shiro’s ass is cute for later (when Hunk is more confident), “You’re being ridiculous. You're giving yourself 1000 problems. He won’t make it that big of a deal.”

“I’m over thinking it, aren’t I?” Hunk blinks quickly several times.

“Oh yeah. To the stage where it sounds a little unreasonable,” Pidge shakes her shoulders with a quiet laugh. Smiling nicely at Hunk, she reassures, “Break your best friend code of having to tell each other everything and just have fun tonight. Then get Lance drunk on Keith’s shitty vodka and tell him casually, like you did with me. Don’t keep thinking about it. Just do.”

“You’re my best friend too,” Hunk says, like it’s a secret. He pouts his lips and looks at Pidge from the corner of his eyes, required because of his tilted head.

Pidge blinks her suddenly watery eyes. She pushes up her glasses, fiddling for something to say, but then her computer sounds with an email. She peeks at the preview, and all she needs to see is _twink_ before she shifts back to face her screen. She sniffs. “Lance is watching porn again. I’m shutting the server off. When he comes down to yell at me, make a run to your date.”

“Thanks, Pidge.”

“You look great. Lucky guy,” she compliments.

“I don’t even know if it’ll work out… If it does I’ll tell him.”

“Lance isn’t an ex you have to be wary of telling, Hunk. It’ll be fine.” An imaginary buzzing hum filters through the buildings walls. “Server’s down. You have until how much of Lance’s video has loaded to make a run to your date.”

“Holy crow, thanks Pidge. I owe you one,” Hunk says breathlessly, but he doesn’t move.

Pidge smiles at him. “Good luck. Really. I hope you that you enjoy your night.”

“PIDGE!” Lance shrieks, voice shrill down the spacious stairs and long hallway.

“Have fun,” Pidge sweetly whispers.

“Oh, come on!” Allura shouts, the sharp clicks of her heels already ascending down the row of offices, “I was learning how to sift flour to perfection!"

“What’re you still doing here?” Pidge asks, jerking her head towards the door. She turns her hotspot on, making a delighted noise when her desktop connects speedily. “Get outta here, Hunk.”

Hunk actually blushes, for whatever reason, and he fumbles out of the chair with the grace of a baby deer. He rubs his hands together. “My palms are sweaty. What if he wants to hold hands?”

“5, 4, 3…” Pidge counts down.

Hunk makes a dash for it with a flash of subtle yellow. A second later both Allura and Lance are in the doorway with their various devices, a laptop and a tablet. Allura gestures dangerously with her tablet.

“I was learning how to bake, darling. Be a dear and turn it back on, will you? Or else you lot won’t get any cupcakes tomorrow.”

Lance sniffs at the air, his tongue peeks out of his mouth just a tiny bit. “Was Hunk in here? I smell his cologne. His _date_ cologne. What’s happening? Are you and Hunk on a date? Is he under the table?”

“Oh, is that a fantasy that you watch every afternoon, Lance,” Pidge testily wonders.

Lance gapes at her, but closes his mouth. He raises an eyebrow instead, essentially screaming: _try me. Fucking try me_.

“Or are black haired twinks more in your favour than a hunky dude and a nerdy girl?” Pidge grits out with a glare.

 

~

 

“I got roasted. Feel my skin, I’m all toasty,” Lance is whining, “My eyebrows are singed off.”

Keith idly taps all his fingers against Lance’s bare arm. He lets out a low breath of air, burnt. “You’re still sizzling,” he tells Lance and leans over to kiss whatever part of Lance he finds first. It’s the line of a jaw. “Want a drink?”

“I’m surprised that you don’t have them out already,” Lance says, which means _yes_ , but Lance doesn’t move from where he threw himself on the couch when he strode in the living room five minutes ago. One leg is fitted between Keith’s knees, an arm is curved around Keith’s neck and Lance has managed to make himself smaller to fit against Keith’s side.

“ _Mhmmm_ , and you would’ve had them out if you were home first. Would you, Lance?” Keith mindlessly says, flattening Lance’s hair down with his hand.

Lance throws his legs over Keith’s lap and smudges his face into the side of Keith’s, wrapping his arms around the width of Keith’s shoulders. He says something, but it’s muffled, and with a teasing, “What was that, Mumbles?” from Keith, he says, “Blow you after a glass of red.”

“What was that? _For_ a glass of wine?” Keith plays dumb, turning his head to the side to lightly brush his mouth against Lance’s smiling lips.

Lance strings in Keith closer and turns that innocent brush into something heated. Lance hastily bites Keith’s bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. Keith retaliates by sucking hard onto Lance’s top one. They smile into each other and Keith’s throat vibrates with a moan when one of Lance’s hands reaches under his shirt. The touch sends him into a shiver of warmth.

Keith’s nipple suddenly ripples in pain. He snatches his face away from Lance’s grasp.

“Fucking dick!” Keith calls Lance, slapping Lance in the chest. “Asshole, you know I don’t fucking mind, but that shit was too hard!”

Lance laughs.

Keith unhinges Lance form his body and rolls his shoulders back once he’s standing on two feet. He lifts his shirt up to inspect his nipple, just to check if he’s imagining something wet. He checks – it’s not blood, but the skin is red and still throbbing with the spontaneous pinch.

“Oh, _come on_ ,” Lance chuckles, still sitting on his side. His head turns as Keith stalks towards the kitchen. “Babe, I’m sorry. Get me wine!!!”

“You’re a fucking crab. As if I’ll get you any shit,” Keith mumbles under his breath, already grabbing out glasses.

“No hard liquor, Keith! We have work tomorrow,” Lance reminds, completely innocent.

Keith grumbles, but bypasses the vodka in the corner cupboard. They really need a wine rack, especially with how much they drink both when they’re alone and when they have people over. He sifts through the rest of the drinks, searching for something that bubbles. Instead he comes across a small tin container with a red apple printed on the front… it’s his missing tea bags. He scowls and gets them out.

“Babe,” he calls out, making his voice as sweet as the fruity smell that wafts out of the two tea bags he pulls out, “Mind turning the volume up? Can’t hear from here.”

The only reply is the commentary for the ice hockey game getting louder.

Keith switches the kettle on, then swaps the glasses for two homey mugs. He absentmindedly chews on the skin beside his thumbnail and leans against the bench, reading over the calendar stuck on the fridge. He gets bored of analyzing the amount of gym that Lance has planned to go to, the upcoming social events that he dazedly doesn’t recall making, and tracks his gaze along the photographs attached to the fridge with magnets from all the places that they and their friends have visited over the past years.

He’s fixated on a photo from college – Keith’s eyeliner is thick, his hair a curly mess, and Lance is on his lap, his lanky limbs spread out everywhere, his hand gripping Keith’s cheeks, effectively making Keith’s lips pout – when his pocket buzzes with a call.

He slips his phone out, sees it’s Hunk, and immediately greets the caller with, “Lance’s phone is probably dead. He’s probably not. Unfortunately.”

“I actually want to talk to _you_ ,” Hunk might as well whispers.

Keith frowns. “Alright.”

Hunk exhales lowly. “Um, so… there’s this guy and he’s—“

“Are you hurt?”

“No!” Hunk then laughs, sounding nervous, “Funny you should ask that, actually. He wants _me_ to _hurt him_. He’s speaking about all this spanking shit and I don’t know! I know I always slap Lance’s ass when I walk by but that’s not… _kinky_.”

Keith’s jaw drops.

“You’ve gone silent. I know you’re not talkative, but normally you’re breathing. Keith? Keith. Are you there? I need you. I can’t Google this.”

The kettle has boiled, but he empties the water, fills it from the cold tap, and switches it on again.

“Keith?”

“You’re going to have sex with a male right now? And you’re calling _me_? Where are you?”

“In the bathroom. Of the restaurant.”

“You’re calling _me_.”

“You’re just kinky, alright?”

“If I am, that means the person I have sex with is kinky too. Call Lance.”

“But you’re more experienced,” Hunk protests, “And I know for a fact that you give it to him that way too. I mean, at first I thought he just gave it to you like that, but then at gym one day he told everyone that you shoved a dildo up his ass and didn’t let him come for 6 hours. Made his ass pink. And then I was like _oh_! Lance also—“

“I’m going to kill him,” Keith mutters.

“No. Don’t do that. Help me instead.”

“Look, you said this was with a guy, right?”

Hunk hums affirmative.

“You’re not going all the way, right?” Hunk doesn’t reply. Keith assists, “Dick up the ass.”

“Holy crow. I know what you mean. I was thinking. No. No, I’m not,” Hunk makes up his mind.

“Okay. Then, make sure the guy knows that. Make sure he knows what you’re limits are. Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. Hell, you don’t even need to see his dick tonight. It’s supposed to be pleasurable. Don’t stress over technicality,” Keith drawls on, and then feels stupid for being so struck on the safeness of Hunk’s night. Hunk knows what he’s doing – he’s a grown man. Keith clears his throat, “It sounds like he wants it rough, huh?”

“I don’t mind that. I just… need some pointers. Lance will scream for an hour until he actually helps me. Pidge isn’t an option. You’re considerate.”

Keith moves to the laundry, stepping over the cat’s food bowl, and shuts the door behind him, so Lance won’t pry. “You listening?”

Hunk mumbles, “Yes,” like he’s a student eager to learn.

“Hand loose around his throat when you’re kissing. Always ask if it’s okay. Make your grips a little tighter. Hold him down. Hair – pull it a little, see his reaction. _Always_ watch for a reaction,” he gulps, “Manhandling. You’re a big guy, throw him around a little. He’ll like it.”

“All at the same time?”

“No, what the –,” but Keith realises that Hunk’s laughing. “If this was some fucking ploy to get me to tell—“

“Noooo. I really do have a guy waiting out there for me,” Hunk reassures, “Thanks. I feel better.”

“It’s okay.” Keith smiles and kicks the cat door so that it swings back and forth, hopefully getting their attention to come inside.

“Please don’t tell Lance. I know that you tell him everything, but please? In return I’ll give you more juicy gossip about him.”

Keith doesn’t even need to think about it. He used to be good at keeping secrets; it’d be good to test if he’s still an expert at it. “Sure.”

“Lance watched porn at work today. Bye.” Then Hunk effectively hangs up.

He waits for the cats for a few more moments, then treks back inside, passing the kitchen and stomping into the living room. Lance looks up. Their two cats are lounging on each of his sides.

“Drinks?” Lance peeps out.

“Porn at work. Seriously?”

Lance doesn’t look fazed. “I was looking for our look-a-likes.”

“That’s so inappropriate. _Lance_ ,” Keith groans.

“You look flushed, babe. You okay?” Lance suddenly says, genuinely sounding concerned.

He touches his cheeks, feels the heat radiating out of them. “Don’t change the subject. No more porn at work.”

“But last week we—“

“That was because of… curiosity? It’s not everyday that Shiro gets mistaken for a pornstar. That was a one off.”

“But it got me thinking. What if _we_ have look-a-likes like Shiro?” Lance gestures mindlessly to the side, eyebrows raised with a challenge that isn’t quite present.

The concept does make Keith think. “No,” he decides, “We aren’t going to watch our look-a-likes fuck. We have the real thing right here.”

Lance narrows his eyes. “Who told you?”

“I get updates when the firewall breaks,” he says quickly, breathing in sharply. “I’m going to read a book in bed.” He runs, messaging Hunk on the way: _BLOWJOBS = NO TEETH. obviously_.

Later, Lance crawls beside Keith with fruit infused tea and glistening lips. Instead of drinking out of the mug, Keith tastes the beverage from Lance’s mouth. “Take it,” Lance urges, “Take it all away. I fucking hate tea. _Oh_ , God. Fuck. Get your clothes off.”

 

~

 

Allura collects a few tiny particles of sugar to test if it actually is sugar, before she puts three teaspoons in her coffee. She sucks on her pointer finger, relishes the sweetness, and uses her free hand to dumps her required amount in her large, warmth radiating mug.

“Check if it’s really sugar?” Shiro asks as ‘good morning’ as he sleekly enters the staff kitchen.

“It’s standard procedure by now.” Allura beams at him and turns back to her mug, stirring in the sugar. “The server still down?”

“I haven’t checked. If it is, I’ll have a chat with Pidge.”

“You ought to have a chat with Lance also. He’s the one forcing Pidge to shut it down. Until all his actions are appropriate on the server, Pidge will continue to terminate it,” Allura advises, already sipping from her mug. Her tongue burns, but she sucks on it with a hiss to soothe it.

Shiro sighs, “What’s he been doing—“

“Good morning!” Coran greets cheerily.

“Morning, Coran,” Allura matches his glee.

“Ugh. You’re all too happy in the morning. This is why I get Starbucks and hide in my office until lunch,” Lance moans, mostly all his words strung together like he’s only entertaining himself. His shoulders are slouched as he drags himself to the bench.

“Lance—“ Shiro begins.

Lance puts a hand on Shiro’s face, effectively silencing him. With his other hand he sifts through the different tea bags. “Which one does Keith drink?"

Allura helpfully points to the tin in the corner. “He picks a random tea every morning.”

“Of course he does.” Lance rolls his eyes and then turns to Shiro’s muffled presence. “Look,” he says, “Don’t Dad me right now, Power Bottom. I’ve already gotten shit from Pidge _and_ my fiancé.”

“You just associated him with being your dad and a power bottom. That does not sound right at all, Lance,” Allura tells him, looking over the rim of her mug.

“Who taught Allura what a power bottom is?” Lance tiredly questions. He extracts his hand from Shiro’s face to cover his yawn. “Who destroyed her purity? You asked me what lube was last year,” he accuses her with a finger.

“I’m not a power bottom,” Shiro protests.

“Oh, babe,” Lance dramatically sighs, “Where’s the donuts? Keith told me there’s donuts every Thursday morning.”

“I’m not,” Shiro persists.

Allura takes a good look at him, at the flush across his cheeks, the width of his shoulders, his muscular body, the way he holds himself like he could slouch at a moments notice. Perhaps even fall to his knees after demanding his lover to shred their pants… Along with his persona, his strict and fair considerations. The stance of leadership he adopts during group outings. He gives out so many orders, that it would surely all reflect in the bedroom even as he makes himself smaller.

“I can see it,” she tells him, winking.

“It’s Hunks turn to get the donuts,” Coran tells Lance.

Pidge grumpily enters the staff kitchen. “Morning,” she grumbles, a travel mug already in her hands. She blearily blinks. “Where’s the donuts?”

“Pidge, what did Lance do yesterday that made you make everyone else suffer?” Coran asks, completely ignoring Lance’s blank stare and grinning at Pidge.

“He watched porn,” Pidge mildly replies.

Coran looks startled. “Lance, have you and Keith broken up?”

“You can still watch it if you’re with someone,” Lance splutters, annoyed. He glares at Pidge. “Move. I was here first.”

“I’m not even in your way,” Pidge icily says.

They both bicker, backs turned to everyone else as they work around the bench. Coran pets his moustache dry with a napkin after taking a long gulp. Allura exchanges an amused look with Shiro, before she looks past his shoulder and spots Hunk in the doorway. He looks rather diminished, holding a half open box of donuts and dark circles under his eyes. There’s a rather impressive bruise on the side of his neck.

“Hunk!” Allura cries out, excited to see him. She’s also keen to hear about his date last night. It was no secret – he did approach her and ask her about his outfit choice. It’s also apparent that it ended well.

“Morning, guys,” Hunk says, stepping inside to let everyone see Keith, who’d been standing behind him.

Allura freezes. Keith’s also got a striking amount of hickeys on his neck, even on the skin that’s peeking out in the amount of fabric that’s slightly overwhelming his frame. His hair’s a mess, sticking up on one end, like he didn’t have access to what he usually does in the morning. He's positively glowing. Well, as much as someone as broody as him can glow. Allura puts two and two together, and – “Oh.”

Keith looks funnily at her. And then adverts his gaze to Coran when the ginger man loudly hisses to Lance, “You told me you two didn’t break up.”

“Huh,” Lance and Pidge both grunt.

Lance looks dazzled when he sees Keith and Hunk. Maybe even a little hurt.

“Don’t you think that this is all a little inappropriate,” Allura says, attempting to stick up for Lance. It is completely inappropriate to showcase a relationship to someone when it consists of that one’s ex-fiancé and best friend, especially when the former relationship was steady last week. It’s miraculous how quick Keith has moved on, as he and Lance were just making out in the conference room on the sixth floor two days ago.

Allura was so sure those fresh flowers on Keith’s desk came from Lance’s hay fever ridden heart.

Pidge turns. “Hunk,” she stutters out, seeming shocked, “You went on a date with Keith. That’s why you… Oh, wow."

“Hunk, why didn’t you—“ Lance tries to say.

“It’s okay, Lance,” Coran solemnly interrupts, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Shiro’s frowning, completely incapable of speech.

Two long moments of awkwardness carry through the air.

Keith points to the darkened spot on the right side of his neck, contrasted sharply against his pale skin and the scarlet that’s blooming across his cheeks, down his throat. “Lance did this.” He moves to points to another. “And this one.”

Every one turns to Hunk.

He noticeably gulps. “Lance. I’m so sorry, man.”

“Did Hunk give the one under Keith’s jaw?” Coran stage whispers to Shiro, no sense of secrecy at all.

“Tell him, Hunk. It’s okay.” Keith smiles prettily at Hunk, his eyelashes fluttering.

Allura purses her lips shut in the prolonged time of suspense.

“Tell me what, Hunk?” Lance says in the same tone that Pidge uses with him, cold as ice.

“I went on a date. Last night,” Hunk carefully says.

Allura turns her head to Lance, takes in his narrowed eyes and closed lips, and turns back to Hunk, who seems to be panting, saying, “With a guy.”

Keith seems to be mouthing something to Lance ( _don’t make it a big deal_ ) repeatedly.

“With Keith?” Coran questions.

Hunk deflates. “No,” he nervously laughs, “Hell no. No offence, Keith. I mean, you’re pretty, but… You’re also probably great in bed, but. I mean I know you’re great, but you know.”

Allura feels much more comfortable now.

Keith looks a little unsure. “Right.”

Shiro clears his throat. “Lance is frozen.”

“I told you he wouldn’t make it a big deal,” Pidge snootily says, making her way out. She grabs a donut as she does. “No porn,” she says as she’s retreating, waving the chocolate glazed donut as a ‘bye’.

Wordlessly, Lance follows her, but stops right in front of Hunk. After staring at Hunk, Lance kisses him on the mouth. He pulls back from the wide-eyed Hunk after a second or so, pets Hunk’s shoulder. “Welcome to the club, buddy,” he says, choked up, and pulls Hunk and the donuts out of the room, passing Keith with a kiss on the cheek. “Now, let’s talk about societies views on those who’ve been out with both. You don’t have to identify with being bisexual, you can still be straight, but it would be…”

Keith scurries to the bench, organizing his tea. “By the way,” he suddenly says, “Lance was only watching porn because a client thought Shiro was a pornstar. He wanted to know what he looked like.”

Allura and Coran, both open-mouthed, turn to a reddened Shiro.

Shiro sputters out, “Don’t we have work to get done?”

“No! Just because we’re both attracted to each other’s sex doesn’t mean you can’t slap my ass anymore!” Lance is distantly heard yelling.

“I’ve done too much spanking!” Hunk wails.

Keith sighs in a way that’s similar to Shiro’s.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted hunk to not be straight


End file.
